Journey to Goldshire pt 2

(One hour later)

Ashamal leant back between the protruding roots of an old oak, his eyes half closed as he idly surveyed the undergrowth. Still dressed in slightly dishevelled leathers, one careworn hand rested gently on the hilt of a belted dagger; his other arm curling around the narrow shoulders of his mate as she slumped against him drowsily, her bareness covered by his travel cloak.

A roan doe crashed out of the bushes before them, pausing with a wild eye, before bounding back between the trees. Ashamal started, his fingers tightening around the dagger; and Leafsong opened her eyes in alarm, feeling the sudden movement. Loosening his grip on the blade, he pressed his lips to her ear, reassuringly. She frowned for a moment as she looked around the wooded clearing, then her brow uncreased as she recalled the events of the past hour. Catching her mate’s eye, she let out an involuntary cackle. Used to this immaturity, he raised his gaze to the fading afternoon skies, a smile reluctantly twisting the corner of his mouth.

“Won’t you be late for your meeting?” she enquired, tracing his greying eyebrow with a bony finger. He shrugged a shoulder expressively.

“They can wait. It’s just a minor Westfall division leader.”

She grinned at him, sliding her finger down his nose and tapping it.

“Analiff likes it when you do this,” she informed him solemnly, her pale eyes glowing faintly in the gloom. “I’m teaching him his features.”

He smiled to himself, an image of his little boy rising in the forefront of his mind. “Give me a progress report. On all my children.”

She nodded, tapping her mouth with her fingers thoughtfully.

“I am almost sure that Analiff is developin’ correctly. As you know, I got expelled from the Kaldorei mothers’ meeting, so I don’t have no one to compare wiv. But he can count to twenty and recite the alphabet in Common as well as Darnassian, so…” She trailed off, watching her husband’s face. When he nodded and waved at her to continue, she beamed.

“Mirae’s walking has got a lot better, though she still bumps into fings- clumsy like her min’da- and she can’t go as fast as Annie. I’m tryin’ to teach her the colours, but it’s awful hard; she only likes pink, purple and yellow. She hates red, and green scares her, so she won’t look at ’em.”

Ashamal snorted, rubbing his hand over the top of her dishevelled head, idly. “Our daughter is a coward. The twins?”

Leafsong watched a squirrel dart across the clearing, then turned to give him a snaggletooth grin.

“They’re lovely. Like little dolls, except for the puking.”

2 Responses so far »

  1. 1

    Sharaan said,

    If Aphel isn’t careful, he’ll get her pregnant again. 😛

  2. 2

    Aphel said,

    What a great story! It’s great that you’ve been able to keep Leafsong’ accent so consistent.

    Puking dolls! My mom had a puking doll when she was a kid. Filled it with applesauce.

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